


Million

by AtlinMerrick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Love, M/M, Million Word Celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/pseuds/AtlinMerrick
Summary: It was yesterday John and Sherlock met, just yesterday.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 112
Kudos: 178





	Million

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chocolamousse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolamousse/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Миллион](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583114) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



Every day is fast.

Every month is slow.

The whiplash of loving a man is…well Sherlock Holmes still doesn’t have words for any of it.

For what happens when he watches John sleeping in their bed, counting his breathes sometimes, and yes counting is data – how fast, how slow – but it’s also certainty, like the metronome or John's heartbeat. It is human resilience and frailty writ small and where these are, there is life. So Sherlock counts and he is certain.

Other times, watching in the low light of dawn, Sherlock tours John's features. He has looked at entire worlds through his microscope but the wonder of John's features amazes him again and again. Fragile eyelashes; orderly eyebrows; the wrinkles on his lips. He smiles when he hears John's stomach rumble in his sleep, and realises he has no idea how much time has passed in watching and counting. A moment or a million, it feels like forever either way.

Then it’s no time at all.

Scotland Yard to grab a case file, but ‘grab’ turns into a tour of every floor because John knows everyone, each pending promotion, all the birthdays, every anniversary. Then it's through Victoria station on their way to Bankside on their way to Westminster and somehow it’s nightfall and they're in bed again, when it was only a moment ago Sherlock woke to eyelashes and eyebrows. The day goes by fast but the months are slow and they've been married so many, many years now.

But it was yesterday they'd met, just yesterday.

Curled up against John's chest some still mornings, a creature dozy with hibernation, Sherlock listens to John's heart beat and pretends he's not counting and pretends he doesn't know about human fragility, but he does so he curls closer and tighter. John shifts in his sleep, closer and warmer.

Some mornings Sherlock isn't ready for the moments to pass, the thousands of moments that make up a day, the thousands of days that make up the years. So he stays still some quiet dawns, even when there are so many things to do, discoveries to make, and he counts. The minutes are long but the days are short, and he'll love John through all of them, from the first one to the millionth and beyond.

—  
_So, this story takes me over one million words of fanfiction written over the last ten years. I thank you for being part of that. Most of us have welcomed other fandoms into our lives but for most of us, I think, this one stays, a love that lingers. This story is dedicated to Chocolamousse, because she is lovely and she stays. (This has been[translated into Russian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583114) by Little Unicorn. Also, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/atlinmerrick)_ _and[Tumblr](https://atlinmerrick.tumblr.com/) and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/improbablepress/).)_


End file.
